Anne Shirley Cuthbert

On the day we were supposed to get engaged, my fiancé, Marco, married the Don's daughter. My father was framed and thrown in jail. I needed five million dollars to get him out. Then Marco found me. "Be my mistress," he offered, "and I'll save your father." I smiled and turned to the man lurking in the shadows, a man known for his power, brutality, and his stone-cold heart. They said the king of the underworld never let a woman spend the night. But with me, he buried his head in my hair, his fingers tracing the curve of my waist. The floor-to-ceiling windows, the mahogany desk, and the ornate carved bed all became our battlegrounds. And there was one thing I forgot to tell Marco. The man I was with was Dante Landini, the cold-blooded Don of the Landini family, who was Marco's soon-to-be father-in-law.

Aku hamil delapan bulan. Satu kontraksi serasa seperti sebilah pisau yang merobek tubuhku. Namun suamiku, Darren sang bos mafia, menolak membawaku ke rumah sakit. Anggi, istri dari mendiang kakaknya, juga sedang menunggu waktu melahirkan. Untuk membuka jalan agar dia bisa melahirkan lebih dulu, Anggi menunjukkan apa yang disebut-sebut sebagai bukti perselingkuhanku, bersikeras bahwa anak yang kukandung tidak memiliki darah Keluarga Pandita. Karena pewaris Keluarga Pandita haruslah cucu laki-laki pertama yang lahir. Darren memercayainya. Dia mengurungku di sebuah gudang anggur tua yang terbengkalai. "Jangan sedetik pun kamu pikir aku nggak tahu apa yang sudah kamu lakukan. Dengar baik-baik. Kamu nggak akan melahirkan anak haram itu sebelum aku memastikan sendiri garis darahnya." "Anak Anggi berdarah murni. Aku harus memastikan anaknya menjadi cucu laki-laki pertama keluarga ini." Aku berusaha mati-matian untuk menjelaskan semuanya. "Air ketubanku hampir pecah! Aku mohon, bawa aku ke rumah sakit! Dia anakmu! Aku bersumpah demi nyawaku!" "Aku nggak akan pernah memperjuangkan posisi pewaris! Aku cuma ingin bayiku selamat!" Darren menendangku dan melirikku dingin. "Siapa yang tahu kalau nanti kamu berubah pikiran? Jangan khawatir. Aku akan kembali setelah Anggi melahirkan. Saat bayi itu lahir, aku akan melihat sendiri siapa ayahnya." Beberapa saat kemudian, ketika dia menatap bayi yang menangis di pelukan Anggi, barulah dia teringat padaku. Namun, salah satu anak buahnya datang melapor dengan suara gemetaran. "Bos, Nyonya ... dan anaknya .... Mereka berdua sudah meninggal."

Ketika suamiku, Rocco dari Keluarga Fauzian, menutup teleponku untuk ke-99 kalinya, aku menyeret tubuhku yang sudah berada di tahap akhir leukemia melangkah masuk ke kantor penasihat hukum keluarga. "Selamat siang, saya ingin mengajukan perceraian." Namun, sepuluh menit kemudian Rocco sudah menerima kabar itu dan menerobos masuk bersama keluargaku. Pemimpin keluarga itu baru masuk, lalu langsung menamparku. "Demi mengacaukan pesta kenaikan jabatan Sofia, kamu menyalahgunakan nomor komunikasi darurat? Otakmu taruh di mana?" Laporan diagnosis yang kugenggam, direbut paksa oleh ibuku. Dia melirikku lalu mencibir sambil tertawa sinis. "Pura-pura sakit untuk cari simpati, cuma supaya kami memperhatikanmu. Claire, dari kecil sampai besar, berapa banyak kebohongan yang sudah kamu buat?" Sofia menarik lengan Rocco sambil menahan tangis. "Maafkan aku, Kak Claire. Aku seharusnya nggak menerima kenaikan jabatan itu. Kumohon, jangan sakiti dirimu dan Rocco lagi!" Aku menyeka darah yang terus mengalir di sudut bibirku, lalu kembali menghadap pengacara. "Aku sudah nggak punya keluarga lagi. Demi tidak menunda proses kremasi jenazahku tiga hari lagi, tolong bantu selesaikan proses perceraian secepatnya."

That year, during the Sicilian arms trafficking conflict, my lover of three years, Silvio, deliberately betrayed my transport routes at a critical moment in a deal with the rival "DiMarco" family, causing me to lose all my territory. He immediately defected to the DiMarco family's leader Marina, becoming her lover. As he left, he didn't even bother to disguise his betrayal, coldly tossing out, "What we had was just business, nothing personal." While I was burdened with my family's blood debts and pushed to the edge of a cliff, Lorenzo, who had secretly harbored feelings for me since childhood, found me and offered his family's entire fortune. "Isabella, don't be afraid. In my eyes, you'll always be Sicily's most formidable Queen of the Arms Trade," he said. He took the Colt pistol from my hand, and his voice was gentle yet resolute. Five years later, my power resurged. I was about to completely crush Marina's smuggling network and reclaim everything I had lost. My caporegimes, the captains of my organization, were ready and waiting for my command. But on the night before the operation, my weapons warehouse suddenly exploded, turning priceless arms into worthless scrap metal. I barely escaped through the thick smoke, my body covered in burns. In a secluded monastery, I overheard Lorenzo and Silvio whispering outside my door. "You really had the guts to blow up the arsenal. Weren't you afraid of blasting her to pieces too?" Silvio's voice carried a mocking tone. "If she died, just died. I've always loved Marina. If it weren't for that unlucky family marriage lottery five years ago, I wouldn't have had to endure this ugly bitch for all this time." Lorenzo's voice was ice-cold and unfamiliar. I closed my eyes, feeling like a dagger had pierced my chest. Explosion. Arranged marriage. Ugly bitch. So those five years of shared hardship were just his unwilling choice after losing a high-stakes gamble. "I married her to keep watch. If it weren't for me paving

After my sister's death, I signed a five-year contract marriage with her mafia husband, Horton Falcone. I became the stepmother to my five-year-old nephew, Luca. On my birthday, I wore my late sister's diamond cross necklace, not realizing what it was. At the family dinner, Luca walked up to me with a glass of red wine and threw the wine in my face. The red wine dripped down my cheeks, its sharp scent stinging my eyes and staining my white dress. He tilted his head back to look up at me, his eyes as cold and cruel as his father's. "Don't think you can replace my mom just because you married into the Falcone family," he said with a malicious grin. "You're the reason she's dead." "I wish you were the one who died. Then I could smash your gravestone instead of celebrating this stupid birthday." "I swear, when I grow up, the first thing I'll do is dump you in the Hudson River myself!" The memory stung as sharply as the wine, and all I could taste was despair. I stared at the child I had spent five years raising as my own, a sharp pain pulsing in my chest. I had thought I could devote myself to the Falcone family, that I could win him over with my love. But now, I was just so tired of it all. It was a family with no love, a child who saw me as his mortal enemy. I stopped deluding myself. It was time to let go. But after I left, that arrogant father and son came crawling back to me like whipped dogs, begging for my forgiveness.

On the night of our mating ceremony, my Alpha, Damian, and I were ambushed by a rival pack. When I opened my eyes again, I was back in the past, before we had marked each other. In my previous life, we were true mates, chosen by the moon goddess, and had been together for seven years. I sacrificed everything to help him become the most powerful Alpha, yet he refused to even give me a pup. Only later did I learn that Damian's heart had always belonged to another—Aria, a she-wolf from a powerful bloodline. Reborn, I decided to let him chase his ambition. I severed our mate bond with my own hands and chose a completely different path. Seven years later, he became the most powerful Alpha in the alliance. At the annual summit, he and his beloved Aria announced their mating. When he saw me standing alone, he sneered. "Selene, I know you're still in love with me. You've loved me across two lifetimes. I'm the most exceptional Alpha you'll ever know." "But you need to stop destroying yourself over me." I ignored him, pulling my son into my arms. Damian's eyes flared crimson, his wolf's control slipping. "You told me you would only ever bear my pups!"

On the night of the Blood Moon Pack's grand ceremony, my Alpha fiancé Ethan solemnly announced before all pack members that we would soon complete our lifelong marking. The pack's blessings surged toward us like a tide. My face flushed red as I pressed against his strong chest, which carried the scent of pine. Suddenly, a figure blocked the moonlight at the temple entrance. Ivy, my friend who had vanished five years ago, stepped inside, accompanied by a pup with eyes like stars. Ignoring everyone's gaze, she walked straight toward us. Her collar slowly slipped down, revealing a deep Alpha bite mark on her neck. Under the moonlight, that mark was as shocking as a brand. "Lucas, come to meet your father."

The Clan Healer told me that without the vial of Progenitor's Blood, the Blood Blight afflicting me meant I had only seventy-two hours to live. But my husband, Miles, the new Duke of our world, gave the only vial of the precious cure to my adopted sister, Vivienne, the woman I had turned three years ago. "She's in agony from the rejection, Isolde. It's a pain you can't possibly understand." His tone was self-righteous, devoid of any concern for the patch of skin on my collarbone already turning to stone. I nodded, watching as the life-saving, dark red liquid slid down another woman's throat. I accomplished a great deal in the time I had left. As I signed the documents, the lawyer's hand trembled. "Are you certain you want to transfer everything, Your Grace? The territorial rights of a thousand-year-old clan..." I didn't hesitate. "Yes. To Vivienne." My adopted daughter, Lily, the girl I had risked everything to save, who was now forever frozen at the age of eight, cowered in Vivienne's arms, pointing at me and screaming, "Aunt Vivienne is my real mommy! You're the witch who turned us into monsters!" I offered no defense. "Yes, that's right. Be a good girl and listen to your new mother now." The Progenitor's Ring, the symbol of the clan's supreme authority, now rested on Vivienne's hand. "Oh, sister, you're too kind," she sobbed, her sobs a practiced performance. "I'll be sure to protect the family in your stead." I nodded. "You'll run things better than I ever did." I even signed away my control over the Elder Council, a council sustained by my own blood. For the first time in a century, a shadow of complex emotion crossed Miles's face. He stared at me,"Isolde, stop fighting. It's better this way. You need to rest." Yes. On my deathbed, I had finally become the perfect, submissive Isolde they always wanted. An Isolde who was about to turn to dust. The seventy-two-hour countdown had begun. I wondered, when I finally turned to ash,

During a battle between packs, both my adopted sister Chloe and I were injured. A Rogue tore me apart, leaving me a mangled heap of flesh and blood. My wolf was already fading from my spirit. But my Alpha mate, Damon, ran straight to Chloe. She had nothing more than a scratch on her face. He refused to use his Alpha power to save me, blaming me for the entire disaster. "Elena, if you hadn't slowed us down, none of this would have happened! How could Chloe have gotten hurt?" "You're not worth wasting the pack's resources on." In the end, I was left for dead in the forest, unclaimed and forgotten. And when the truth came out that I had died to save him? That cold-blooded Alpha who rejected me so viciously went insane.

During a battle with a rival pack, my Alpha mate, Damien, burst into my private healing sanctuary. He was carrying Lyra, a Beta warrior who had supposedly taken a poisoned blade for him. The next day, under the watchful eye of the Moon Goddess, Damien was forced by the pack elders to apologize. He explained that bringing an outsider into my sanctuary was a desperate act in a moment of crisis. After all, Lyra had saved his life. But that night, in the bed we once shared, Lyra stabbed herself with a dagger laced with wolfsbane and framed me for the attack. He chose to believe her. The rejection ceremony ripped my wolf from my soul. I was cast out—a powerless exile, left for dead in a storm, to be torn to shreds by rogues. But what Damien never knew was that the ancient curse afflicting him could only be healed by me. When I opened my eyes again, I was back at the beginning: the moment Damien carried that woman in, demanding I save her.